Writing in the Snow
by Rainosa
Summary: Christmas is probably one of Danny's least favorite times of the year. It's the one time where his parents aren't positively peppy about things, and he just needs to get out of the house sometimes. But one little festive act of kindness won't change anything, will it? Short but sweet, I promise.


Cool, white snowflakes brushed across the surface of my winter jacket, chilled just to the point that they didn't melt on contact. The glowing lights of the festive city around me twisted and danced in some kind of holiday song, and the buzzing chatter of the shop-goers dully hummed along with it. The piles of snow around me almost seemed non-existent in the face of all this cheer. But...

A cold sting slithered into my boots as the snow finally became too much for my cheap winter gear to handle, and with growing disappointment, I realized that these soaked socks would be my downfall; where else to change shoes but at home? I couldn't just keep walking around in the cold, even if it didn't bother me much anymore. Begrudgingly, I spun around to begin the long, miserable trek back. The display of a particular shop caught my eye, however, and I bounced over in an attempt to delay my inevitable journey. With surprising care, the owner of the store was writing on the display window; just a few simple words, but ones that made my blood run cold again.

Merry Christmas!

Scoffing to myself, I turned back and trudged a little quicker home. Merry Christmas. As if. Christmas was anything but merry for me. I huffed all the way down several streets, before I began to even sort of pause, slowing as I realized that rushing off in a tizzy only brought me home faster. Sighing, I dropped into the snow like it was a homely sofa, and laid back to take in the quiet winter.

Christmas Eve was always the worst of all the nights. The shouting was louder, the tempers shorter, and the fights more desperate. It was difficult to be in the same building with all of them, much less the same room, and I tended to just hide outside on this night. I didn't need more of Mom and Dad screaming at each other while my sister tried to calm them down with even more yelling. What I really needed was alone time. Something I didn't get much of these days.

My finger tip felt overly numb, and I glanced down to notice that I was trailing it through the snow in long, looping letters that spelled out exactly what kept popping up all the time: Merry Christmas. It was so well-wishing, but held no more joy for me. Why were people so obliged to spread it everywhere like it was the salt of the earth? How did it hold so much meaning for them?

I guess they hadn't grown up like I had.

I stood, and walked over to the nearest vehicle. If it was so meaningful, maybe I should give it out more often, to make people feel better, even if I didn't so much. With the same icy fingertip, I gently wrote across the windshield the two festive words. There. That would make someone's day tomorrow. Satisfied I had filled up my Christmas spirit meter for the season, I kept walking, with the intent of continuing until I finally had to face home again. But as I passed the next car, a feeling of guilt washed over me like a wind, breathing into me that I couldn't be quite so unfair as to leave this person out of my one shot at festivities. Reluctantly, I twirled the same words through the snow as I did on the other car. Besides, this one looked more run-down than the first. They probably needed the happiness more than the first ones did.

The next car was no better. You just can't do two cars in a row and then leave the next guy out. It looks like you're ignoring them on purpose. So I scribbled the words again, before finally giving up and moving on. There was my Christmas contribution, right there, and that was it. I didn't need to keep trying to make people feel better anyways. They would probably just assume it was some stupid teenage vandals, getting a kick out of drawing on windows or something. They didn't need my time or my effort.

The next car had a disabled license hanging inside, as well as a Baby on Board sticker.

I wrote "Merry Christmas" again.

×××Christmas Morning×××

The town of Amity Park was pleasantly surprised that morning to find "Merry Christmas" written on every windshield throughout town, whether the car be running or not. For most people, it was like a Christmas present from the world.

But for my family, it was a peace statement. Christmases after that were calmer and more traditional. The amount of shouting that went on decreased significantly, as Mom and Dad put aside their differences and just tried to be happy. I didn't write on windows again, but someone must have carried it on, because next Christmas, it was there, reminding us exactly how to feel about Christmas, about who this was really for.

This is for you guys.

Merry Christmas.


End file.
